Homecoming: An Alastair Stone Urban Fantasy Novel (Alastair Stone Chronicles Book 23)

by R. L. King

  “Yeah, I like that idea. Kolinsky creeps me out.”

  “Well, you’ve hardly seen him at his best—but I’ll agree he can be a bit unsettling to the uninitiated.” He indicated the pizza box. “Right, then. Shall we keep gorging ourselves, or get on with this?”

  Jason crammed the last of his slice into his mouth, washed it down with the rest of his beer, and closed the pizza box. “Let’s do this. I can eat later.”

  Upstairs in the attic workroom, Stone indicated the elaborate circle he’d drawn on the floor. He’d left a large space in the middle, which contained a pair of chairs facing each other. “Have a seat while I get things prepared. Don’t smudge anything.”

  Jason stepped carefully across the circle and sat on one of the chairs as Stone paced around the outside lighting the candles he’d placed around the perimeter.

  “What are you gonna do?” he asked. “I thought we already did the circle thing.”

  Stone stopped to examine the circle, then joined Jason inside and took the other chair. “We did, but I’ve made some alterations to it since the last time. It’s probably not necessary, but it helps me focus. It’s designed to aid in a deep scan—quite a bit deeper than I usually go, even to check for magical ability. Deeper than we did before.”

  “You…can’t read my mind or anything, right? You said mages can’t do that.”

  Stone chuckled. “All I could get are surface impressions—and that’s only if I specifically look for them, which I’m not planning to do. Don’t worry—all your little fantasies about what you and Amber will get up to when you get home are safe with me.”

  Jason glared at him, but didn’t reply. His entire posture radiated a combination of stress, anticipation, and hope. “Okay, go for it, then.”

  Stone closed his eyes. He shifted to magical sight and took several deep breaths, dropping into his meditative state, and then opened them.

  Jason’s aura blazed as bright and steady as ever. It was still the same solid, indigo blue, a change from the medium blue it had been ever since Stone had met him. That was a good sign—it likely meant whatever Whitworth’s concoction had changed in Jason, it wasn’t temporary. He’d been affected by alchemical mixtures before, when a potion made from the blood of a shifter had given him shifter-like abilities—enhanced strength, senses, and healing ability—but that change had only lasted a few hours before fading.

  For a while, Jason had tried to convince Verity and her alchemist friend Hezzie to create more of the same potion, but their inability to secure additional shifter blood had rendered the whole thing moot. By the time Amber had come along, Jason had given up the idea. He hadn’t asked her to provide any blood for an experiment, and Stone wasn’t even sure hers would work since she was only one-quarter shifter.

  This time, though, the blood involved wasn’t from a shifter, but from Stone. According to what he’d managed to glean from Whitworth’s incomplete notes, the man had been working on a way to give a child magical powers by substituting his own genetic material for the would-be father’s in vitro, then infusing the embryo with a mixture created from magically-active blood. The treatment would require a “booster” treatment to kick-start the reaction when the child reached puberty.

  Whitworth never succeeded (as far as anyone knew, anyway), and as the years ticked away, he grew increasingly desperate. With Jason, he’d taken two leaps of faith and made a sort of scientific Hail Mary pass: first, he’d surmised the reason his treatments hadn’t worked was due to his own blood not being potent enough, and second, he’d attempted his treatment on a fully-grown adult with a magical heritage instead of an embryo. He’d stolen blood from Stone and infused it into Jason.

  Stone had cursed Whitworth more than once for taking the coward’s way out by committing suicide and destroying his lab when his plans were discovered. He’d even cursed Julius Whitworth, Melvin’s mundane brother and the ultimate target of his obsession, for succumbing to a heart attack before he could fill in the blanks of his brother’s incomplete notes. There was no helping it, though: Stone had what he had, and he wasn’t going to get any more. It was all up to him now, and anyone else he chose to bring to the party.

  He narrowed his eyes, focusing on Jason’s aura and damping his own potent purple, gold and silver one so it didn’t color his results. He wasn’t as good at this kind of deep aura reading as Verity, but his extra Calanarian power had given him a significant boost.

  “Anything?” Jason’s voice sounded like it was coming from far away.

  “Shh…”

  The first thing Stone noticed was the same thing he’d spotted during his last scan: fundamentally, Jason’s aura was unchanged. It remained solid, steady, and bright, with no dark spots or red flashes indicating potential trouble or ill health. The only difference was the color. This was only the second time Stone had ever dealt with an aura changing color—the other one had been his own, and it hadn’t so much changed its existing hues as sprouted a new one. It would take a profound life change to even have a chance of altering an aura’s color. The change persisting this long suggested whatever Whitworth had done to Jason, it was there to stay.

  But what had he done?

  Stone wished he’d been there when Jason had broken free of Whitworth’s lab. All he’d seen or heard from where he, Verity, Amber, and Julius Whitworth had waited on the floor above had been a flash of light and the sound of something wrenching free. Jason didn’t have much memory of what had happened, but had said he felt “energized” and it had been easier for him to move quickly and lift heavy objects. Stone still wasn’t entirely convinced it hadn’t been mere adrenaline, brought on by Jason’s fear that the lab would come down around him and Whitworth. Even mundane humans could commit astonishing feats when faced with enough adversity.

  But none of that explained the aura change.

  Damn it, what has he done to you?

  He went in deeper, trying to locate the source of Jason’s odd magic-battery ability. Several years ago Jason had been abducted by an extradimensional entity, which used him as a source of power. From that, Stone had learned Jason’s power came from somewhere else, but he’d never been able to track down where. It was a puzzle that had confounded him ever since, and now he wondered if it wasn’t somehow related to his friend’s newfound abilities.

  “Al?”

  Again, Jason’s voice sounded far away, like he was speaking from the far end of a long tunnel.

  “Jason, I asked you to—”

  “Al, it’s been half an hour. I need to hit the head.”

  Stone jerked back, magical sight dropping away. Half an hour? That couldn’t be. He’d only been doing this for—

  He glanced at his watch. “Bloody hell. It didn’t seem that long.”

  “For you, maybe. Can I take a break?” Jason was already standing.

  “Yes, of course. Go ahead.”

  He watched Jason leave the room, using a little magic to keep the persistent Raider from sneaking in through the open door.

  He’d been doing this for half an hour and found nothing.

  No changes beyond the color. No indications of magical ability. No obvious connection to the mana-battery energy. Nothing.

  How could that be? Aura colors didn’t just change for no damned good reason. There had to be something going on in there.

  When Jason returned, he was pacing the room, pausing a moment to stare out the window into the overgrown backyard.

  “Al?”

  He turned back. Jason stood in the doorway, looking pensive. “Ready to have another go?”

  “I dunno. It doesn’t seem like you were getting anywhere. Am I right?”

  “I…” He glanced at the circle, with its two empty chairs, and sighed. “No. I didn’t see anything at all, and I don’t know why. With the exception of your aura changing color, everything looks exactly the same as it did before. I tested for magical ability, and as far as I can tell you’re as mundane as you’ve ever been.”

&
nbsp; “Except for the whole magical battery thing. Which I don’t even have much need to use anymore, since you stopped being a black mage and I don’t see V that often.”

  “Yes. I was scanning for that specifically. I’m still convinced it’s related, but so far I’ve got nothing.”

  “So we’re stuck.”

  Stone sighed. “Let me try one more thing before you go.”

  “What’s that? I don’t really want to sit in that circle for another half-hour.”

  “No, no need for that. Just…give me some power.”

  “What?”

  “You know—like you used to do.” He crossed the room and stood next to Jason, extending his arm. “Maybe if you’re actively using it, it will help me tell if your battery ability was affected.” He didn’t say it, but he hoped if he was right, it didn’t end up that Whitworth’s concoction had taken away Jason’s ability. He knew his friend wasn’t crazy about being a support player on their team, but he also knew Jason valued his ability to help his mage friends when things got bad.

  Jason obviously hadn’t considered that option, because he perked up. “You think that could be it?”

  “No idea, but it’s worth a try. Give me some power.”

  He regarded Stone for a few seconds, then gripped his extended arm. “Go ahead.”

  Even though Stone got his power from Calanar now, he was still a black mage. He held his breath, closed his eyes, shifted to magical sight, and pulled power as he’d done dozens of times before.

  The power came, strong and steady, flowing into him as it always had.

  He watched the flow long enough to be certain, then released the grip and let out his held breath.

  “Well?” Jason demanded. “Anything?”

  “Well…the good news is that your magical battery ability seems unaffected.”

  “But…?”

  “But…I don’t see any difference. It felt the same as every other time. No more power, and no less. It looks like whatever Whitworth did to you, that wasn’t it.”

  Jason’s gaze skated away, but Stone didn’t miss the disappointment. “Damn. Well, thanks for trying, anyway.”

  “Oh, I’m not giving up yet. But I’ve got to do a bit more study and consult a couple of colleagues.”

  “Kolinsky?”

  “Not yet. He’s sort of the nuclear option. I was thinking of checking with Eddie, to see if he knows of anything in the library. And Verity, once she’s had a chance to settle in. If something did happen, I’m convinced it’s related to alchemy. Maybe if we give them a blood sample, they might be able to make something of it.”

  “Yeah…maybe.” He clenched his fist. “Damn, but this is frustrating. I’m not kidding—at this point I don’t even care if it turns out to be nothing. I just want a definitive answer.”

  “I can guarantee you don’t want one more than I do. You know how I am with magical puzzles. I promise, Jason, we’ll figure this out.”

  “Yeah, I know. But this isn’t just a puzzle. It’s my life.” He shook his head and slapped the doorframe. “Anyway, thanks, Al. I really appreciate what you’re doing, and I’m sure you’ll get it eventually. I should head home—Amber should be back by now and we were going to go over some stuff for one of our cases.”

  Stone probably wasn’t as disappointed as Jason, but his failure still ate at him. “Want to try again tomorrow? Do you work on Saturdays?”

  “Nah, not tomorrow. No work, but I’m gonna head out to the place in Santa Cruz. We close next week, but the owners gave me permission to do a little cleanup around the property. Guess they figure if the deal falls through, at least they’ll get some free work out of it.” He grinned. “Wouldn’t want to help, would you?”

  Stone narrowed his eyes. “You think you’re joking, don’t you?”

  “Well…yeah. I can’t imagine you out in the heat doing physical work. Not exactly your jam.”

  He remembered Calanar, where Kira had him carrying rocks and building walls as part of his magical acclimation training. “You might be surprised. And honestly, a bit of physical work might help get my mind off things for a while. Sometimes I think better when I’m not spinning my wheels. Unless,” he added with a sly smile, “you’ve got—er—other plans with Amber when the work’s done.”

  “Not till we get home. We’re not planning to…break the place in until we actually own it.”

  “Brilliant, then. I could use a break, so you’ve got yourself a helper. Just tell me when to show up, and where, and I’ll be there.”

  “Uh…sure. Okay! Thanks, Al. And again, thanks for trying with this. I guess it’s too much to expect that life is going to go entirely smoothly.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?”

  18

  The last time Stone had been anywhere near Santa Cruz had been many years ago, shortly after he’d first moved to the U.S. and taken the job at the University. This time, the drive over Highway 17 was considerably less stressful, except for the heavy traffic. It appeared that everybody in the South Bay area had decided to head to the beach. By the time he exited 17 and crawled up Summit Road for several miles, it was already mid-morning. He nearly missed the tiny turnoff, glad he spotted it at the last moment because turning the BMW around on the narrow road would have been challenging.

  The house itself was up half a mile of gravel road bordered on both sides by tall trees. The narrow, winding lane opened onto a cleared space, and Stone was relieved to see Amber’s Jeep parked next to a small house on a sloped hillside. He didn’t see either her or Jason, though. He got out and headed toward the house, the gravel crunching under his boots. “Jason? Amber?”

  Jason emerged from around the back of the house, swiping a hand across his brow. “Hey, Al. We were starting to think you got lost.” He wore a sweat-soaked T-shirt, jeans, work boots, and a blue baseball cap with the Thayer Investigations logo across the front. Whatever work he’d planned to do here, he’d obviously been at it for a while already.

  “I almost did. You don’t like civilization very much, do you?”

  “That place of yours in England is out in the sticks.”

  “Civilized sticks. At least I’ve got a proper road. Have you even got things like electricity and indoor plumbing out here?” Stone studied the house, trying not to look dubious. Jason had mentioned it needed “work,” but Stone hadn’t thought “work” meant “tear it down and start over.” He kept that thought to himself, though.

  “This is still the middle of the Silicon Valley, even if it doesn’t look like it. We’ve got electricity, water, and internet, plus a generator if the power goes out.”

  Stone looked around. The house might not look like much, but the land around it was beautiful, with a cleared central area shaded by towering trees. “How much land have you got here?”

  “About two acres, but half of it’s on a hillside so it’s not good for much. That’s part of why we could afford the place—the land’s not really suited for building a big house on it, so none of the tech people wanted it. Still, if it hadn’t been for your wedding gift and the money Amber had put away from her parents, we’d never have swung it.”

  Amber came out from the other side of the house and waved. She carried a pitcher of lemonade and three glasses. “Good to see you made it.”

  “Yes, me too.” He accepted a glass. “I was just admiring the land here.”

  She laughed. “That’s polite Alastair-speak for, ‘wow, that house is a dump,’ isn’t it?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I would never say such a thing.”

  “Don’t worry,” Jason said. “It is a dump. We all know that. I told you it was a fixer-upper.”

  “Yes, but you didn’t mention quite the level of ‘fixer-uppering’ it was going to take.”

  “It’s a challenge,” Amber conceded. “But we both like working with our hands. There’s enough room around the place that we can start by fixing the existing house, and then maybe add a room or two onto it. It’s only two bedroo
ms and one bath now, so we might add one more of each.”

  “And an outbuilding,” Jason added, pointing. “You know, garage-workshop kind of thing, over there.” He pulled off his hat, swiped through his hair, and put it back on. “It’ll take time, of course, but that’s okay. I’ve been needing a hobby, and it was either this or buy a junker car and work on it.”

  “We can do that too,” Amber said. “But first we need somewhere to put it in.”

  Stone smiled. It felt good to see them so happy together, their easy camaraderie making it seem as if they’d been together much longer than they had.

  “So,” he said, finishing the lemonade and looking for a place to set the glass, “what are we doing here? I’m ready to help, but you’re right—this isn’t exactly my speciality. You’ll have to direct me.”

  “Yeah, I got that. Right now, we’ve been clearing some brush around the house. The place hasn’t been occupied for a while, and there’s a lot of fire hazard up here. Did you bring work gloves?”

  “Er…no.”

  “Do you even own work gloves?”

  “Er. No.”

  Jason grinned and exchanged a glance with Amber; Stone wondered which of them had just won the bet. “Don’t worry—got you covered. C’mon.”

  He and Amber led Stone around the back of the house, where they’d set out an ancient folding table on a scarred, weathered deck. On the table were three pairs of leather work gloves, safety glasses, sunblock, a cooler full of beer, soda, and bottles of water, a portable radio, and a small chainsaw.

  “I do hope you don’t expect me to use that.” Stone pointed at the chainsaw.

  Jason laughed. “You are not allowed anywhere near the chainsaw.”

  “Normally I’d be insulted, but…” He donned a pair of gloves and glanced at the decrepit structure on the other side of the deck. “Did that thing begin life as a hot tub?”

  “We think so.” Amber wrinkled her nose. “The first time we looked at the place, we found a dead raccoon in it. That was fun. So was emptying it out so the mosquitos didn’t eat us alive. Not one of the more charming aspects of country living.”